


Arrogance & Ignorance

by ZeeBeing



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, American Revolution, Angst?, Death, Enemies to Friends, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Revolutionary War, Survival, USUK - Freeform, WARNING: Mild Blood, War, injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-16 04:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7251778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeeBeing/pseuds/ZeeBeing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred is a soldier for the rebel colonies of America, but when he's mistaken for dead and left behind after a battle, he must find his back back to civilization through the wilderness. The only thing he didn't count on though, was finding a wounded soldier from the British army. Alfred and Arthur will have to work together, but is that possible? Perhaps it is, but that's not all.</p><p>|[  ON HIATUS UNTIL SEPTEMBER (2016). SEE LAST CHAPTER (6) FOR DETAILS.  ]|</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Redcoats and Rebels

“Uhhhhgg…”

The first thing Alfred felt when he woke up was the stabbing pain shooting through his eyes upon opening them to the sky. Immediately after, he rolled onto his side ejecting the contents of his stomach onto the grassy ground next to him. At this point, Alfred would have probably been thinking something to the effect of, ‘Where am I? What the Hell happened again?’ But frankly he was in too much nauseating pain to put any coherent thoughts together. His head whirled in dizziness as he got his bearings. Finally he looked up around him.

Oh yes, that’s right. The battle.

He was lying in a large field still in his red white and blue patriot uniform, the sky was gently overcast and there was a slight wind. All around him were bodies. The bodies of his fellow soldiers scattered the land. No one else was in sight. The once pleasant breeze became eerie as he became aware that he was all alone here. Alone and surrounded by only the dead.

Suddenly a sharp pain stung through his forehead, he reached up only to bring down a hand covered in blood from a decent sized gash that tore open his forehead. The pieces came together, he must have been knocked unconscious in battle and mistaken for one of the dead. The bleeding was mostly done, that was good. Slowly and delicately, he brought himself together and stood up.

Dear god, everything on his body hurt. His head, his legs, his feet, his arms-- nowhere was safe from the aching pain.

Nonetheless, he shakily stepped forward. Immediately he fell to the ground but got up again, this time more carefully. Eventually he got ahold of his shaky legs and struck out to walk.

He was a little dazed, but still the bodies lying around him didn't phase him. There was simply nothing he could do, there was no way he could help them now and he had to get back to somewhere with people so that he could find his troop, end this war, and most importantly, gain his freedom. So he walked along the deserted grassland shuffling around bodies and hoping to find something useful. Somewhere along the way he wondered where everyone was. Which side won? And why hadn't the winner stayed to take the land or care for their dead?

He picked up a sash from one of his fallen soldiers to wrap around the wound on his head. As he looked around, he couldn't tell who won by the number of dead. Was it his side? Or the British? One thing he did know was that this was one of the bloodiest battles he’d ever seen. He hoped with all his might it was the colonies who won, to give him one step closer to his freedom.

As he went he slowly rounded a hill and at the top of the sloping hill he stopped to look down at the expanse.

Death was everywhere. The blue coats and the red coats all scattered the land. The bodies look evenly distributed, he couldn't tell who had less casualties to give a clue unto which side won. Then something caught his eye in the distance.

It was a flicker of movement. Someone was alive.

Narrowing his eyes, he focused on  the figure of a man. He was sitting near the top of the next slope. He looked like he was shuffling around on the ground, maybe looking for something -- or scavenging. And wouldn't you know? He was wearing a red coat. Alfred cringed in disgust, but really having nothing else to do, began his descent.

He didn't try to conceal himself, what was the point? They'd both just went through a battle. As he got closer he noticed the other had the same idea. He completely aware Alfred was approaching but he just sat there, waiting in silence.

Alfred bent to pick up a stay rifle and half dragged it behind him, his pace never wavered. He'd just half to pick off this last straggler of the tyrant army himself and then be on his way. The other man saw this, but didn't move a muscle from where he sat. Alfred noticed his light blond hair, stuck to his forehead from sweat and his pale skin. His green eyes never left Alfred as he grew nearer.

“What are you going to do with that?” The other’s steely yet calm voice spoke up when Alfred was close, ringing out through the silence in the air.

Alfred stopped, and looked at the other. “Kill you.” He said with ease.

“Why?” The enemy soldier hissed and grimaced. “I'm no threat to you.”

“Because you're a red coat.” Alfred replied.

“And you're ignorant.” The other soldier spit.

Alfred paused for a moment, smiling slightly more so to humor the other than out of joy, as he picked up the rifle, aiming it at the other. “Is that really a smart idea to be saying that to the one with the gun?”

“Please,” the red coat said dismissively. “I'm as good as dead anyways.” He then slumped back, hand slipping from where it was wrapped around his waist to reveal the large wet blotch of dark red stain on his shirt. He’d been shot. The wound was to the side. Pitty, it may have missed his vital organs, but don't worry, the bleeding out and infection would take care of that.

Seeing this, Alfred took a moment to take in the other. He was breathing heavily, his face was much too pale and sweat soaked his face and hair. He took a note at the other man’s surroundings. There was a ripped shirt, where the enemy soldier had attempted to make bandages. The rest of the area was littered with odds and ends of other items including a small pair of scissors, a small bowl a bottle of some liquid that suspiciously looked like alcohol and other thing that he must have scavenged in a desperate attempt to stay alive. Nonetheless, this man surely was dying.

_Well,_ Alfred thought, _no need to waste the bullets or the energy._ And so dropped the gun and sat down on the ground sighing in exhaustion.

The other soldier looked confused.

“What are you doing?” he said.

“I’m exhausted,” Alfred said, “and I’m not going to waste the energy in killing you.”

The other soldier scowled.

“If you’re not going to help me just leave me alone to die!”

“I have to make sue you die.” his expression eerily blank.

“Oh, so if I don’t succumb to my own injuries _then_ you’ll kill me? That’s like torture. What kind of sadistic scum are you?” the other hissed.

It was Alfred’s turn to scowl. His eyes grew dark but he said nothing. There was a moment of silence before Alfred stood up. “It’s getting dark.” he said and walked away.

 ---

It was indeed getting dark and Alfred had just about had it. That tyrant thinks he’s being tortured? The British have been torturing their own people for years, how dare he call _him_ some low life scum? That tyrant isn’t any better than all his little British buddies or even King George himself. They’re all the same. Arrogant, cold hearted bastards who suppress their citizens, lock them away and ignore them, only to pull them out when they want something. Money.

So fine, he wanted to be left to die alone like all his people deserve? Than Alfred would do just that.

Alfred stumbled his way through the bodies and dimming light once again, around a few hills, got a substantial amount of distance away, where the bodies thinned out before he settled down. It grew dark. It was cold but Alfred tried to ignore it. Curling in on himself in the smallest he could, he waited for sleep.

The cold did keep him awake yes, but what really kept him awake for most of the night was the thought of the dead not far away, and the tiny, minuscule thought that he could have been one of them and no one would ever know. He could still yet _be_ one of them and no one would be the wiser. It was an irrational thought, but the howling wind didn’t help at all. Sleep did eventually take him only after he tried his best to keep his mind off the dead only merely yards away. He dare not think about his brother, instead he focused on the soldier he met earlier that day. He would go back to check on the man in the morning. Surely the man would be dead by then.

The only problem was, he _wasn’t._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really should have been working on something else but then this idea popped into my head and then this story popped onto this page, so it just sort of happened.  
> I hope you enjoyed either way~!  
> There will be more! See you next time!


	2. Blood and Burden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for slight blood and gore.

Oh yes, the man was indeed not dead in the morning. That was perfectly clear when as Alfred approached the area he found himself listening to grunts and howls of pain the closer he got. As he rounded a bend he finally saw the other. Shirtless, he was leaning along the side of the hill, red blood smeared and dripping down his abdomen. Alfred wasn’t quite sure what was happening but nonetheless the sight and the sounds made Alfred’s stomach curdle. As Alfred drew closer he froze in horror as came close enough to realize that the British soldier was currently digging the musket ball out of his side himself. 

His head thrown back and face scrunched in pain, the enemy soldier had one hand pressing down on the area surrounding the wound presumably to keep pressure, and the other hand gripping white-knuckled onto an instrument that Alfred couldn’t quite make out as it was dug six inches deep in his side. 

The other soldier wasn't even looking at what he was doing, doing everything by feel alone. Just the thought of digging around inside himself until he felt the hard foreign object clink against the other cold metal object he was shoving into himself and then having to work it out himself made Alfred shudder. 

The enemy soldier threw his head up looking up for only a split second only throw it back onto the ground and Alfred saw the thick leather belt clenched between the other man's teeth, slightly smothering his screams. Alfred wasn't even sure if he saw him. He gave no reaction to his presence if he did. 

It was kind of strange, Alfred thought in the back of his mind, to be watching such a painful, intimate moment but to be completely invisible.

Alfred watched, unable to move from his spot, eyes glued open at the scene for what seemed like minutes. Finally, the other slowly began pulling the six inch instrument out of his body, black musket ball poking through the hole, falling out leaving a bloody trail behind it from where it rolled off his body. Alfred noticed the instrument he was using was a pair of scissors.

A few deathly quiet seconds passed of only the other panting before the soldier threw the bloody pair of scissors to the side and sat up looking Alfred directly in the eye.

“Are you going to kill me now?” He said in bitter mockery before his head once again rolled back hitting the ground with a thump and he fell limp.

Alfred stood there for a second, stunned in complete silence. Until, the other’s words came crashing through his mind.  _ Was  _ he going to kill him? He took a hard look at the now unconscious other but hesitation was thrown out the window without a second thought when it dawned on him the other was still very much bleeding and still very much unconscious. Instinct rushed him to the other man’s side. Snatching up the discarded bloody shirt he pressed it to the other’s wound. All that digging around opened the wound even further. He checked the other’s pulse. Still beating. If someone wasn’t there to keep pressure the man would bleed out before he even woke up. 

Alfred wasn’t even sure why he was doing this but stayed there like that, slowing the bleeding. It didn’t seem like it had been that long before the other man groaned and moved his head. In his dazed state even before opening his eyes he lifted his arms, reaching out for the wound. 

Alfred’s stomach dropped. He was waking up. Panicking, he grabbed the man’s wrist and brought it down onto his wound pressing it down firmly so the man would get the idea then stood up and quickly withdrew back into the hills before the man fully regained consciousness.

Alfred retreated, he had to stop himself from running. He wasn’t sure why he did it. He hated that man. Hell, he still  _ did. _ Then why? He was so willing to just let the other bleed out yesterday, why not now? Alfred kicked himself.  Why didn’t he do it? It was the perfect opportunity! 

Maybe… it just seemed like… a waste. The man tried so hard and got so far to keep himself alive, it just seemed… unfair. 

Fair? Fair?! What made this man even deserve his  _ fairness _ ? He’s one of the tyrants, they don’t even have the concept of fairity! One less man is one step closer.

Alfred's stomach suddenly growled, pulling him out of his thoughts. Oh god he needed something to eat.

Fine, he made a quick decision. He’ll just have to go back and finish the job. For good this time. The man deserves it anyways, he told himself. But not right now.

Now was time to find food.

How was he going to do that? There was nothing here. Maybe he could use a musket and go hunting? But the shots from the battle would have surely scared off any animals within miles. He then turned to the dead. The soldiers would have rations wouldn’t they? He swallowed. It was bad luck to steal from the dead wasn’t it? He might make their spirits angry. 

No, Alfred mentally kicked himself.  _ Get ahold of yourself. _  There wasn’t time for this. It was this or starve to death. But just in case, he’d only steal from the British soldiers.

So Alfred took to scavenging. He felt dirty doing it but it was either that or starve. He looted the British soldiers bodies and packs and found enough of what he was looking for. The rations of hard stale bread, dried meat and a few beans would do. Unsurprisingly, the British rations were much better than he or the colonies ever got.

Alfred sighed and sat down looking out over the still body-covered desolate fields. It really bothered him, why did they all just leave? At the very least  _ someone _ should have stayed behind to manage the dead. What about all of their families? Or weapons? They just left them all behind, the army could have at least reused the muskets and ammunition.

As he ate he wondered how far he was from any town. Or for that matter, which direction town was even  _ in.  _ This is a problem. How was he ever supposed to find his way back to his army and his troop. He knew he must be west of most major cities as the battle was pretty far inland but that didn’t mean much and how far he’d have to travel to ge there was worrying, if he even found out which direction to head.

Then it slowly occurred to him, the other soldier. He’d been awake when Alfred found him, maybe he knew what happened at the end of the battle, maybe he knew where they were. Alfred gulped, maybe it was a very good thing he hadn’t killed him yet. If the other soldier had information he needed, he had to go back and talk to him. 

Alfred growled. This screwed up all his plans again. He just wanted to get it over with, but now, god forbid, he might  _ need _ the other. 

_ No _ , Alfred thought firmly. There would be no  _ needing. _  He’d just have to go back and see what he knew, and if he didn’t know anything then he’ll kill him. And if he did, then he’ll just have to threaten it out of him and also kill him. There, simple, quick, easy.

But the thought of going back to him and seeing him again so soon after he’d  _ shamefully _ helped him and then ran like a coward didn’t quite appeal to Alfred. 

Maybe he’d wait until tomorrow. The soldier could last until then right? He seemed like he knew what he was doing. Afterall, he could dig a musket ball out of himself all on his own. It was settled. 

But it soon became evident that Alfred didn’t have to wait that long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's the next chapter! Got a lot of kudos, thank you all so much! This chapter may not be very eventful but it's setting up for things to come! Hope you liked it!  
> See you next time!


	3. Darkness and Dread

By the time it was beginning to grow dark Alfred thought he had made a pretty good camp. He collected enough firewood from the edge of the forest for the next night or two, more food he scavenged off of British soldiers, a blanket he  _ borrowed _ from another soldier and cleared the area of bodies. He was feeling pretty content as night came.

But the settling darkness brought doubt with it. The light of the campfire only brought harsher lines of darkness, like a black curtain closing him in. Alfred hated it. His eyes flicking back and forth, never stopped scanning the edge of darkness. 

He hadn’t always been afraid of the dark but he had always been superstitious. As Alfred gazed into the dark wall of the night surrounding his campfire he could feel his heartbeat quicken. And at the thought of the hundreds of dead soldiers covering the fields around him could only amplify his paranoia. The thought, he suddenly remembered, of the soldiers he stole from quickly shot his paranoia into full blown fear.

Alfred huddled in on himself, as close the fire as he could. They were probably out there right now watching him, waiting for revenge. Not only would they have been angry at being stolen from but also from their bodies being left here, unattended. Their angry spirits could all be out there and they could do anything to him.

Alfred stayed there wide awake and trembling for hours. The rustling of bushes, the snapping of twigs and the other odd noises Alfred couldn’t place had him flinching. It was like torture. The longer it went the worse it got. The suspense was murderous, and so were the ghosts. Every noise he heard made him shrivel and quiver more in fear. They were right out there, right in the darkness, searching for anything to rest their wandering souls. To exact revenge and justice. They were right there, just waiting to catch him off guard.

He tried to keep his mind off it so many times. To think about something else,  _ anything _ else. But it never worked. Every time, his mind just brought him back to his little campfire surrounded by darkness and the things waiting just beyond the light.

He was all alone. 

Humans have a natural urge to stick together, it was safety in numbers. Which is why it wasn’t much of a surprise when the thought of going back to the other soldier crossed his mind once or twice. But he  _ wouldn’t.  _ He  _ couldn’t. _ He  _ would not _ stoop to such levels to show such cowardice in front of the enemy, he reminded himself firmly.

But as the night grew on and exhaustion took ahold of him, he was ashamed to admit, the idea became more and more appealing.

Just then,  _ BANG _ . A loud boom splintered through silent the night air. Alfred spasmed, nearly jumping into the fire.  _ Fuck, what was that? _

But Alfred didn’t really have to ask himself that question as he was more than accustomed to that sound. 

That was the sound of a gun being fired. 

Alfred’s heart raced in his chest. A gunshot. The other soldier. What was he doing? 

A single gunshot, and then silence.

Alfred was in disbelief. It couldn’t be…? The soldier was near bleeding out earlier today. Had Alfred misevaluated the severity of his injury? Could his wounds have become too great and he…?

Alfred continued to sit there in stillness for a few moments.

He still needed information. He still had no idea what happened or how to get back, the man couldn’t be dead yet. 

He rose to his feet. He had to go see what happened. Kicking the coals down in his already dulling campfire, Alfred was surrounded by darkness. He felt utterly vulnerable, but slowly, in stiff shaking legs, he walked through the darkness. 

He had to force himself not to run or quicken his pace, spirits can sense your fear. All the while he was walking he was telling himself it was  _ not  _ because he was afraid. He needed to make sure his asset wasn’t dead. He still needed information from him afterall. It was _ not _ because he felt safer around another person even if that person was part of the tyrant army. It was  _ not _ because he needed him.

Stumbling through the darkness, he headed to the sound of the shot. The moonlight led him right to the other soldiers camp. A dim glow lit the area as he grew nearer. His eyes adjusted and he could just make out the shape of the other exactly where Alfred had left him. The light source of what must have been dying embers came from somewhere close behind the soldier, making him nothing but a silhouette. He was eerily still as the laid there, like he was sleeping. Or… 

Alfred stopped. What if he found himself alone here? His legs were afraid to move forward.  What would he do? He would finally be really truly alone. Would he be destined to die out in the wilderness along with all of his fellow soldiers, cold and alone? Would he starve to death or would the ghosts get him first?

He took a breath. He forced two more hesitant steps forward.

Then all of a sudden,  _ BANG. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! This chapter was kinda boring and super short and pretty much just a filler chapter. But it ended on a cliffhanger... oops.  
> It occurred to me that the last chapter and this one could really have been combined into one but.. oh well.  
> Hope you like it! See you next time!


	4. Meeting and Greeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Cursing. Many cursing.

_ BANG. _

“ _ Holy FUCK!”  _ Alfred jumped into the air, almost falling backwards at the loud sound. A flash of light and the smell of gunsmoke accompanied the noise.

“Don’t take one step closer.” a familiar voice spoke forward.

Alfred saw the shape of the body was now sitting up, his face illuminated by the dulling embers along with the gun in his hand.

“What the hell was that for!?” Alfred shrieked.

“Well I can only assume that you’re here to kill me.” the other said bluntly.

“I’m not--!” Alfred stopped. “I’m not here to kill you.” he said more quietly with a sulking expression.

“Why not? You seemed so abetment to do it last time.” the soldier said bitterly “You left me to bleed out for dead and thought that was that but then once you heard my shot you knew I must not have been dead and came to investigate and then, subsequently, finish the job.”

“You don’t--”  _ He doesn’t remember? _ Alfred thought. _ Well. Good. No need to bring that up ever again then. _

“I’m not here to kill you.” Alfred said more firmly.

“Oh? And why not? Too much of a coward to kill a wounded helpless soldier? Too filled with shame to help your new ‘country’? Too  _ pathetic _ to finish the job? Pathetic excuse for a soldier--”

In a flash of anger Alfred cut the other soldier off by ripping the knife out of his holder and stabbing it into the ground next to him.

“ _ Don’t _ test me.” Alfred said lowly, a darkness shading his eyes. 

There was silence. Alfred didn’t move other than that and just sat there with a silent sulk.

The soldier said nothing, taking in Alfred’s demeanor.

“You need me.” he deduced.

Alfred clenched his fist. He said nothing.

“What do you want?” the soldier asked.

He was silent for a minute more before giving in. “I don’t know where we are. I don’t know how to get back.” he said. “I don’t know what happened either -- In the battle.” He said as an afterthought.

“What were you doing?  _ Sleeping? _ ” the other said in mockery.

“For you’re fucking information, yes I was.” Alfred snaped. “I got clubbed in the head halfway through.” he gestured to his wrapped forehead for extra measure which he just now remembered hurt like hell. All the sweat from trudging back and forth from the forest must have irritated it.

“So that’s why you were left behind.” The soldier said. “I was mistaken for the dead too as you must know.”

“I don’t understand. Why did they just leave?”

“I was a wreck most way through, but I think it was mostly a misunderstanding. This was one of the most bloody and hectic battles I’ve seen. It was all a bloody confusion. This place holds absolutely no strategic position and is in no way an advantage for either side. This battle was an accident. We both just…  _ ran _ into each other, essentially. It was a surprise to both of us. These hills gave us one hell of a hard time. I think what happened was… both armies just… retreated. Each assumed the other had won. It’s the only thing that could have explained it.”

Alfred was silent, soaking it all in. “So… they’re not going to come back for us.”

“Most likely not.” The soldier confirmed.

“Then how do I get back?”

The other narrowed his eyes. “I’ll tell you when I’m well enough to leave.”

He wasn’t going to tell him. “Ugh!” Alfred cried in frustration and gisgust. 

The soldier shrugged his shoulders. “A good soldier would have known where he was and where he was going.”

“It’s not  _ my _ fault! Most of us are just farmers. We don’t have the money or the experience to train anyone well. No thanks to you tyrants. Greedy bastards.”

The other soldier scowled but then finally sighed in defeat.

“What’s your name?”

Alfred was caught off guard. He debated it for a moment in his head. “Alfred F. Jones.”

“I’m Arthur Kirkland. Nice to meet you.”

Alfred squinted in a glare. “What is wrong with you?”

“What? I can’t be civilized?”

“We’re enemies!”

“We are on opposing sides of a war.” Arthur corrected.

“That means we’re enemies!” Alfred barked.

“Does it?”

That made Alfred stop for a moment.  _ Of course it does,  _ he told himself.

Arthur sighed in what Alfred could only place as disappointment. “You’re so young.”

“I’m barely any younger than  _ you _ !” Alfred said offended.

Arthur didn’t say anything to that and an awkward silence followed. “Are you going to do something or are you just going to sit there all night?”

Alfred growled, annoyed. But still, he sure as hell wasn’t going back alone to his camp that night. “What the hell happened to your fire anyways?” he said gesturing to the smouldering… something, next to Arthur. 

“Well, it’s not like I can just get up and search for firewood,” he said referring to his abdomen which he winced at. “I was trying to light…” Arthur shook his head. “ _ Anything _ , I don’t know. I was trying to use the gunpowder from my gun but… it went off. That was the shot you heard.”

It was Alfred’s turn to be unamused. “Are you stupid?  _ Gunpowder? _ Really?”

“Well how else am I going to do it?!” Arthur said offendedly. 

Alfred rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back.” he said and got up to walk back into the darkness.

This time was, oddly, not as bad as the first. He didn’t seem as afraid. He marched back to his camp not far away snatched a few logs, bringing them back. By the time he got back the smoldering thing which he recognized must be a coat or another type of clothing was completely out. Alfred could still only roll his eyes. He dropped the wood at Arthur’s feet making him jump.

He kneeled down and started setting the fire up. Soon they had a real fire going which brightened the area up much better. Alfred noticed the other’s face seemed even paler than before and that he was huddled under another soldier's wool coat, shivering. He seemed grateful for the fire even though he didn’t say anything.

“How’d you do that?” Arthur asked.

“Do what?” Alfred said confused as he settled down next to the warmth of the fire.

“You lit the fire, you didn’t have anything to light it with, not even matches.

Alfred gave him a look. “Don’t you know how to light a fire?”

“I… never learned. I never really had to.”

Alfred looked at him in disgust. He was probably rich. Of course. He didn’t say anything, just turned around to face the other direction and laid down fully intending to sleep. 

He heard the other yawn but his yawn turned into a fit of coughs. growing annoyed, he turned around to glare at the other.

“Sorry,” Arthur wheezed. “Must be the smoke.”

Alfred turned back around and settled down again. He heard Arthur lay down too and fell asleep to the sound of Arthur’s wheezes as he tried to keep his coughs under control.

Evidently, that was also the sound Alfred woke up to in the morning, except much, much worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... people are going to hate me for these cliffhangers. ...oops.  
> FYI: I am going on vacation to visit family for the 4th so the next chapter will be later than the others. Sorry to leave you left with that!  
> Hope everyone else has a happy 4th of July! Unless your not American... then I still hope you have a good day that day.  
> Anyways! Thanks for reading!  
> See you next time!


	5. Illness and Idle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for gag-worthy material? A.K.A. puke and infected wounds. Weak stomachs be advised.

First it was wheezing, then it was coughing, then it was hacking and then the sound of gagging and puking was what Alfred finally woke up to in the morning. 

Alfred sat up from his spot quickly in the dim morning light. His eyes quickly shot to Arthur who was leaning on his side and heaving uncontrollably. Alfred rushed over to his side and instinctively leaning him onto his stomach as to not choke and put a hand on his back as the other threw up what was left in his stomach. Which unsurprisingly wasn’t anything. The only thing to come out was bile which now coated the grass in bright yellow. 

When Arthur’s gags subsided Alfred carefully flipped him back over. Immediately he could tell something was wrong. Arthur was weak, he was sweating heavily and his face was white as a sheet. 

“I--” he coughed, “I think I’m sick.” he said weakly.

“Ya think?” Alfred felt his forehead. “Shit, you’re burning up.” Alfred said balling up a shirt under Arthur’s head as a makeshift pillow.

Arthur started hacking again.

“What should I do?” Alfred stammered.

“Look at the wound.” Arthur wheezed through coughs.

Alfred pulled aside the coat which Arthur had used to cover up in the night to look at the wound. “It’s red and swollen.”

Arthur reached his hand down and probed the wound. A white substance oozed out coating Arthur’s fingers as he brought them up to look.

“It’s infected-- shit.” Arthur coughed. “I need something to clean it up with.” Arthur said to Alfred, catching his attention. “I need you to get me water and some alcohol. I’ll also need some herbs but you can do that later.” he said weakly.

“Right, okay.” Alfred said, agreeing without a second thought and got up snatching a nearby bowl from an abandoned soldier’s pack. He beelined for the woods. Luckily, he saw a stream in the woods the day before and knew exactly where to go. 

Somewhere along the way he paused for a moment, coming back to his senses. Why was he even helping this man? Shouldn’t he be sticking with his plan to threaten the information out of him? Instead he was letting the man use him to help himself get better. He should beat the information out of him if he needed to, he was going to kill the man anyways wasn’t he? One less man was one step closer to freedom, he reminded himself. 

But even if he did try to threaten the information out him, would it even work? If the man knew he was going to die anyways why would he tell him? Alfred would have to wait until the man got better, until he had some hope, to threaten him. That must be it.

Alfred paused. But... that would be a little cruel wouldn’t it?

What was he thinking?! He mentally bashed himself. This was a red coat he was talking about! Of course it wasn’t cruel!

Still though… Alfred bit his lip.

Then he kicked himself, pulling him out of his thoughts. He didn’t have time for this now. Regardless if wanted him dead or not he would be either way if he didn’t help him now.

Back on his task, he stopped and raided a few other soldier’s bodies for an canteens that may have rationed alcohol in them on the way to the stream and soon he was back at Arthur’s side. After he set what he found down he backed away, a little awkward, not knowing what to do.

Arthur didn’t seem deterred, he picked up the water and using a rag which it looked like he ripped from something, wiped away at the wound. He tried to squeeze as much puss out as possible between pants before taking the flask of alcohol and dumping it into the wound.

“ _ Argh!” _ He screamed and winced in pain. His head began to lul back and his eyes droop.

Alfred caught on. “Hey!” he barked, leaning back down at his side and shaking him. “Don’t fall asleep!”

“Right.” the other said blinking himself awake and reaching back to the task at hand. Alfred could see he was still panting heavily and his hands were shaking. He was getting pretty out of it.

“Wait stop,” Alfred said pushing his hands away, “Just let me do it.”

Arthur let himself fall back, letting out a breath of relief. Alfred went to work cleaning out the wound, he could do that at least. Somewhere along the way a cool wet rag was placed on his forehead as he rested his head back, his eyes closed as he winced at the pain every so often. When Alfred was pretty sure he was done, he pulled away. Arthur relaxed, sighing.

“Thank you.” Arthur rasped as Alfred cleaned up the materials.

Alfred didn’t acknowledge that. “What about those herbs you talked about?”

“Oh right,” Arthur said and then groaned. “I’m not even sure if they grow around here let alone grow in the wild.”

It was silent, neither knowing what to do until Alfred spoke up.

“I know of a plant that will bring down fevers.” Alfred remembered. “My mother used it to treat my brother and I when we got sick. I can go find it.” Alfred suggested but winced at the mention of his brother.

Through the sweat and breaths Arthur gave him an odd look Alfred couldn’t quite place.

“Yes, that would be helpful, thank you.”

Alfred nodded but didn’t say anything else as he got up in search of the plant. It grew in the forest. It took him a while to find it but he eventually did, also along the way he picked up a few more things he thought he would need for a camp. 

It was past noon when Alfred got back. Arthur was sleeping, tossing and turning under the coat he used as a blanket. Alfred felt his forehead. It was burning. He quickly got to work preparing the plant, boiling it until it was ready. When it was, he slowly shook Arthur awake. Putting a cup of the substance to his lips. Arthur drank it all. Alfred could tell he was forcing himself to take all of it. The day’s events and his fever must have caught up with him because he fell right back to sleep.

Well, Alfred sat back, he couldn’t do anything now but wait.

And so he waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Big ol' family reunion, fireworks, food, had lots of fun. Sorry you all had to wait.  
> Also, apologies, this chapter was kind of hard to write. Not sure why, maybe I just need to get back into things. Sometimes it seems like the quality of my writing decreases the more I write. It was also a little short and probably not all that satisfying. Oh well, had to get it posted in time. Hopefully the next chapter will be better.  
> Thank you all so much for all your feedback!  
> See you next time!


	6. Pasts and Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> |[ EDIT, PLEASE READ: Sorry for no update, the summer has been hectic the past few weeks and it's looking to not be clear for a while. To put off anyone's expectations and to keep everyone updated, I am putting this story on HIATUS until schools starts and I can get on a normal schedule. I DO NOT WANT TO ABANDON THIS STORY AND WILL TRY MY BEST TO CONTINUE IT. I should start it up again in September 2016. Thanks for understanding. Until next time! ]|

After Arthur fell asleep and Alfred found himself alone. He stared blankly until a fly buzzed around his face drawing his attention and that’s when he finally took notice to the stench. The bodies were beginning to rot. He pulled himself up and took the rest of the day attempting to moves the bodies away from their area, stacking them in piles a little ways off and collecting supplies off them while he was at it. The stench was murderous and the flies made him want to puke but since Arthur was too sick to be moved these bodies had to be.

It was growing dark by the time Arthur stirred. 

Alfred was cooking something he caught from one of the traps he set when he heard a moan and looked over to see Arthur moving. He abandoned his fire and went over to feel Arthur’s forehead. He let out a breath of relief. It was cooler now. If he was waking up this was a good sign. Arthur groaned and opened his eyes shuffling to half sit up in a haze. 

“Here.” Alfred said pulling over a canteen and putting it to Arthur’s lips. “Water.”

Arthur coughed but began drinking, pulling the canteen closer and taking it on his own. He finished pulling it away, seeming much clearer headed.

“Well,” he said in a raspy voice as he sat up completely. “That herb must have done something right.”

“I got more, you’ll have to keep taking it until you’re better.”

Arthur chucked weakly.

“What?” Alfred said.

“It just that it’s strange seeing you so eager to help. You seemed so hellbent on killing me not so long ago.”

“Well,” Alfred said, “Now I have a need for you. But that doesn’t mean I think any more highly of you. You’re still a redcoat.”  _ I’m still planning on killing you,  _ his mind supplied but was quickly followed by a pang of guilt. He brushed it off quickly.

“Ah yes a redcoat, nasty evil redcoats. Not that it would even matter much if you still wanted to kill me. If you wanted to, you could do it.”

Alfred ignored that. “You have no idea what you redcoats do.” Alfred hissed, bitterness growing again.

“How would you know what I do? How would you know what I’ve done? You don’t know me.”

“I don’t need to. You’re on their side.”

“You know I had a life back before all this!”

“Yeah. Well. I’m sorry if my freedom  _ inconvenienced  _ you.” He said with contempt. “We all have problems.” 

Alfred walked back over to where the meat was cooking, possibly a raccoon or a ‘possum. He cut off a piece and gave it to Arthur. Arthur took it graciously but only picked at it slowly. His appetite must not have come back. He’d still need a day or two. Alfred on the other hand gobbled it down hungrily. The sun set and the growing twilight set in. The light from the fire illuminated their faces.

After a long silence of Arthur halfhearted picking at his food he finally gave up. “Do you have a family then?” He asked.

“Why do you care?” Alfred hissed.

“Sorry I thought of having a polite conversation.” Arthur said matter of factly but his eyes conveyed something different, something more calculative. “So do you? Have a family?”

Alfred clenched his jaw. “Yes.” he said but he dropped it there.

“I heard you mention you have a brother?”

Alfred’s fist clenched, knuckles turning white. Arthur didn’t seem to notice.

“Is he in the military too--?”

“Yes!” Alfred slammed his fist on the ground. “Yes he is! But he’s on the wrong _side.”_ Alfred shouted through clenched teeth. _“_ He’s on _your_ side. He’s in _your_ army. I told him not to go but he _did._ And now he’s fighting against us! He’s my _brother_! He should be here with me!” Alfred finished, panting. 

Arthur’s eyes were hard for a minute but they softened. “I’m sorry.” was all he could think to say.

“Yeah. Yeah you say that when your only family betrays you.” Alfred said bitterly.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean--”

“You don’t know anything!”

Arthur was quiet again. “You’re right. I was never close with my family.”

“Will you just shut up?” Alfred snapped, turning away and fussing with the supplies. He brought out a can and filled it with water and put it over the fire to prepare the medicine from the herb he collected. 

Arthur watched him, it was dark now. A slight breeze blew and he caught a wiff of the stench of rotting corpses. His nose wrinkled. Dear god, how long was he to stay in this? He looked out over the hills again, he couldn't see far in the darkness now but he knew the bodies were out there, bloating, being infested by maggots, scavenged by wild beasts by now, rotting and turning to jelly. He looked back to Alfred who was amongst all these thoughts. He was staring resolutely at his brew, ignoring the other the best he could.

“Why are you here?” Arthur asked.

Alfred looked up irritatedly. “I’m here because I got bashed in the head and left for dead, why do you think!”

“No,” Arthur shook his head. “I mean why are you  _ here. _ ”

Alfred’s eyes burrowed in agitation. “I’m here because I want to fight for my liberty. I’m tired of being pushed under your thumb, of being stolen from, of being suppressed. My family was dirt poor, all we could afford to grow were cash crops and you can’t eat those. You think we could afford another tax? I’m tired of  _ you _ like everyone else. Why the fuck are  _ you _ here?” Alfred said accusingly.

Arthur sighed but kept his gaze. “I’m here because I’m a soldier. I was drafted. I should be in England. I should be apprenticing to be a doctor. But now I’m here. And if this is what I’m to do than I might as well do it. It’s my job.  _ That’s _ why I’m here.”

Alfred’s anger faded into thought but he redirected his attention onto the medicine before he could go deeper. He brought it off the fire and waited for it to cool before handing it to Arthur. Arthur was fading back into another sleep but woke himself up to drink. They stayed in silence but after Arthur was done he almost immediately fell back to sleep. Alfred noticed the half-eaten meat forgotten by his side. He shrugged and picked it up bringing it back to his spot by the campfire and sat back, munching on it thoughtfully.

The soldier had been right earlier, Alfred had every means to kill him, if he wanted to, he could do it easily. But it wasn’t about  _ wanting _ Alfred reminded himself. He needed Arthur no matter how much he didn’t like it. But still, he could threaten him like he said he would, and then he wouldn’t need him anymore. He could kill him because he wanted to. Didn’t he? One less man is one step closer to his freedom, he reminded himself. But… then again, he was only  _ one _ man. What was  _ one  _ man in the grand scheme of war?

What was he thinking? He  _ wanted _ to kill him. Right?

Right?

The thought struck him like a punch, hard and honest.  _ I don’t think I can, _ he thought in what was almost disbelief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a little late. Excuses, excuses, but I had some house problems going on and that vacation really got my schedule all out of whack.  
> This story is in no way historically accurate for a few major reasons, just thought I'd put that out there. I could have tried to keep it historically accurate but that was pretty much thrown out the window even on the first chapter, besides, I think the story flows better when I don't have to worry about little details.  
> Anyways! Hope you enjoyed it. See you next time!
> 
> |[ EDIT, PLEASE READ: Sorry for no update, the summer has been hectic the past few weeks and it's looking to not be clear for a while. To put off anyone's expectations and to keep everyone updated, I am putting this story on HIATUS until schools starts and I can get on a normal schedule. I DO NOT WANT TO ABANDON THIS STORY AND WILL TRY MY BEST TO CONTINUE IT. I should start it up again in September 2016. Thanks for understanding. Until next time! ]|


End file.
